


Makin' Whoopee

by shirewalker



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: 20s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, F/M, Flappers, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Table Sex, Who's surprised?, alina darling goes out alone and ends up on his bed, but it's mostly pwp, cuz what better time than Darkles owning a club than during the prohibition era?, for winter fête unsolved needs, suspicious job darkles has, this was just a random hook up fic that ended up being rewritten into the 20s era :D, well. it HAS a bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirewalker/pseuds/shirewalker
Summary: Prohibition Era. Alina goes alone to The Fold, a jazz club that still somehow serves alcohol.When the seductive owner, Aleksander Morozova, sees through her apple juice trick, Alina doesn't have a bone in herself to resist the magnetic pull of his silver eyes and soon she finds herself tangled knee deep in Morozova's arms.





	Makin' Whoopee

 

 

 

She didn’t have to take a look at herself in the lift’s mirror to know she looked thoroughly… laid. Still, just before the doors opened to her apartment floor, Alina stole a glimpse of herself. She wasn’t disappointed. If disappointed meant to be proven right.

Her hair was hand-combed, the waves long gone and her bun hastily pined back in place. Her sparse makeup had left a particular shade of pink on her lips and her eyes had a satisfied shine. Yes, there was no way that she would get to her shower without having Genya docking her and demanding answers.

A prayer went to whomever was listening as she opened her door. Thank you very much for keeping Zoya stranded in the north in that event of hers. At least she wouldn’t pair up with Genya and drill her for answers. Her housemates had a penchant for demanding information, especially if it was the kind that had Alina coming home in the morning while wearing last night’s outfit. It was a rare event after all.

 

* * *

 

It was supposed to be Zoya’s welcome back night out. The raven haired woman had gone away for two weeks to model at a grand fashion event. She was to return the previous afternoon and the three friends were supposed to go out for dinner and some celebratory drinks. Zoya’s incredible looks had been so successful she had been showered with requests to work at shows by several different designers and that was enough reason to celebrate. But the weather in the north had a different plan. And so she had to cancel the plans.

Genya, after spending almost an hour complaining about how the universe simply didn’t want them to have some girl fun, had decided to go visit her long-time boyfriend and soon to be husband, David. She hadn’t been so keen on leaving Alina all by herself, but Alina had promised she wouldn’t stay home alone. She’d call one of their friends. She promised.

And she did call friends.

But Nikolai was out of the country. Tolya, being his bodyguard was wherever Nikolai was. Tamar hadn’t picked up and when Nadia didn’t pick up either, Alina knew exactly what was going on. She was left with acquaintances such as Nadia’s younger brother, Adrik. But Adrik was a thirsty teenager. She had zero patience for horny teenagers that were dying to drink more than they should.

And thus she found herself sitting all alone in a single table at her favourite jazz club with a plate full of cinnamon cookies and a glass of apple juice in her hand. It was her favourite trick to drive away single men looking for a quick hook-up on the side. Seeing her with a supposedly alcoholic drink of her own already would make things hard for them. Especially if she was in a sour mood. And having to go out on her own had been enough to ruin her mood. Not that she didn’t like to go out on her own, she just preferred to do so with company, good company.

“Enjoying your drink?” A cool voice said.

She prepared her favourite ‘leave me alone’ glare, only to have it wither and die when she took a look at her interruption. A tall man looked her way, his body all lean muscle that looked far too good in his black tailored suit. His hair was pitch black, casually combed back, but it was his eyes that took her breath away without so much of a warning. Calling them grey would be an offense. They were silver, a deep pool of liquid silver that called for her like a siren called for a lost sailor. And Alina found it nearly impossible to not fall into those eyes and just… get lost.

“Huh?” her lips managed to form… a sound and his own tugged up into a smirk that was doing an excellent job at heating up the room. Or maybe just her. She really didn’t know.

“I asked if you were enjoying your…” a long pause, “apple juice.” He finished. And her jaw dropped.

“What? How… Huh… What makes you think this is apple juice?” terrible recovery, but she’d tried anyway. “Why do you care about it anyway? I’m not interested in soothing your ego.” She added, feeling surer of herself. There was no way she’d let an unrealistically handsome man slither his way into her table.

“I know it is apple juice. And I care because I can’t help but be curious about why one of my patrons comes here all alone only to have… apple juice.” His answer was said in an almost too casual tone, his growing wolfish smirk making it look as if he was assessing exactly how to eat her up.

“You… You’re the…” saints help her, “You’re the… the owner… You’re Morozova.” Her tongue was heavy inside her mouth, as if she’d taken gallons of pure alcohol straight into her bloodstream. Of all the people to catch her game, it had to be the owner of the club. And having him looking at her in such a way did nothing to help her increasing body temperature.

A voice in the back of her mind told her to leave, there was no way that staying in his company would end well. That voice told her she would regret plenty of things the next day. It told her that men like Morozova were best kept at arm’s length and that taking dares, no matter how veiled they were, would be her undoing.

Alina wasn’t very good at listening to that voice.

 

* * *

 

Breathing was, in a word, hard. Especially when Aleksander Morozova’s lips were on her skin, doing things that one would never be able to describe in public, and would never dare. Her legs were hooked tightly around his waist, his naked torso pressed hard against her breasts. He had a hand around her body, another deep in her now loose hair and Alina felt a familiar warmth pooling between her legs, no doubt fruit of her current position.

Eyes closed, lips parted, head thrown back, Alina couldn’t fight the moans that spilled out of her every time Aleksander rocked his hips against hers, while his mouth was working hard on leaving a permanent mark on her neck. Teeth grazed on her pulse and she almost came right then and there.

“Saints! Oh… Saints… Al-Aleksander…” he was working his way down the column of her neck, his lips dangerous like wild fire, burning through her skin and deep into her bloodstream. Her blood was gone, replaced by alcohol that caught fire with just the barest of sparks, the very same liquid the law so feverishly tried to make disappear. A startled gasp rushed out of her when he captured a nipple between his teeth and pulled and licked at the soft, tender skin. She wanted him to stop, she wanted him to keep at it and to do more, so much more. She wanted to scream his name and claw at his back as he played her like a fine-tuned instrument. She wanted out of her dress and panties, the flimsy fabric already soaking wet by now. She wanted to have him completely bare under her as she made _him_ scream her name.

Aleksander Morozova had just walked into her life and she was already very much addicted.

With ease, Aleksander moved her away from the wall and laid her on his dining table. The low lights played with the lines of his body and Alina struggled for air, dumbstruck by his unnatural beauty and his lustful gaze that burned through her. His pants were gone and soon was the rest of her outfit as well. Taking his time, Aleksander removed each of her silk stocking, letting his fingertips brush ever so lightly on her heated skin. When he was done with undressing her… Oh, saints, his lips worked their way up her leg, first slowly, then faster, then so much slower that she couldn’t stop the begging whimpers that formed on her throat. The anticipation was killing her. This man was killing her.

Then the tip of his tongue touched her core and she nearly fainted. Aleksander’s tongue worked her in a slow tempo, teasing her folds just enough to push her close to the edge, but never over it. Oh no, never over it. He knew what he was doing. The silver eyed bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“You’re… Oh! You’re a monster…” she gasped, fingers clawing at his hair. She felt his smirk and for a second she was ready to kick him into oblivion. But then he hit the right chord and she was crashing down, down, down. Her back arched, her heart raced, her lips called for him in a raw cry. And all along… all along his diabolical tongue licked her clean.

“Oh, Miss Starkov… my dear Alina…” he rasped against her throat, having finally climbed on top of her. Fire crackled in his fireplace, lit up previously by some unknown lackey. His teeth teased her skin, “What beautiful sounds you make…”

Her eyes rolled in their sockets as he moved inside her, his hands always, always with a hard grip on her, his lips never leaving her body for more than a brief second. For a moment she wondered if she would have met this incredible man had her friends been with her. When he thrust deeper and had her moaning his name over and over again, she knew… she knew she wouldn’t have. But then again… A meeting such as this? There was no way the stars wouldn’t have it happening sooner or later.

“I trust… you too make interesting sounds…” she rasped between kisses, his mouth as hungry for her as hers was for him. His chuckle, dark and so, so alluring, had her craving even more for him.

“I’m sure you’ll draw them out of me soon enough…”

Yes, yes she would.

 

* * *

 

When morning came, Alina knew she would be damned if she stayed in bed for much longer. As alluring as spending one more moment with Aleksander Morozova was… She was still a single young woman and her reputation would be tarnished forever if she returned home after her neighbours started waking up and getting ready for another day of work. She herself had a job to attend, selling the very same stockings Morozova had taken off of her the previous night. Luckily, her shift only started after lunch, or else it wouldn’t just be her reputation she would lose. It would be her job as well.

The bed was empty but still warm and she knew Aleksander was probably taking care of his own morning routine. Quickly as she could, Alina searched for anything that could cover her during the search for her clothes, but as soon as she found a robe her eyes fell on a chair, where her party dress, her stockings, her t-straps and her purse were perfectly arranged. Sending a silent thank you to the man that kept her awake until long after midnight, Alina got dressed and ready to leave.

“I’ve arranged for transportation, Alina. You needn’t worry about public transportations today.” He said as she entered his dining room, the request for a taxi already on her lips.

She paused, only barely registering the ominously dressed company he had. Three strange men dressed in dark pinstriped suits sat at the table, none but Aleksander paying any attention to her. They had the wrong feel. A feeling of dread took over the back of her mind, had she just slept with someone that did more than running a club that served alcoholic drinks when it was forbidden? When she felt his gaze on her, Alina startled and forced herself to speak, “Oh, thank you. I appreciate it.”

Aleksander excused himself and walked with her to the door, where another man in suit waited for her, this one less dangerously looking, “I apologise for this, I had… intended for a different morning for us,” He said, his eyes taking in her hasty attire with an unsatisfied hunger, “But something came up.”

“Don’t worry, I do have to get home before my friends do.”

“Very well. Take this,” he offered her a card, his name handwritten on it, “It’ll let you in my club any time you need. And in this building as well.” She knew he wasn’t offering her places to just visit, this was an official invitation for repetitions of the previous night. “Until then…” He pressed his mouth on hers, kissing hard enough she couldn’t stop the moan that formed in her throat.

 

* * *

 

She sat on her bed, having showered and gotten dressed through a daze. Alina was torn between sighing dreamily over the hours she’d spent in Aleksander Morozova’s arms and worrying over having stepped into something truly dangerous. She didn’t doubt his club was illegal, even though it had open doors through the Prohibition. He had, certainly, gotten away with it. A connection with the police was probably what kept The Fold up and running. And without needing for a secret basement to sell the alcohol.

Still, she couldn’t really focus on that, her mind never straying too far from _him_.

Absentmindedly, she stroked his card, a dreamy smile on her lips. Saints damn her, she would go back to see him again as soon as her shift was over, wasn’t she?

Oh yes, of course she was. Of course she was.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> What's better than alarkling smut than alarkling smut in a historical setting?
> 
> Before you ask for more, let me tell you I only planned this one-shot. I might work further on it in the future, but if/when I do, it might take a little while. But don't let that stop you from commenting for more, I just wanted to let you know ^^
> 
> comments/feedback/fangirling are the best fuel a writer can ask for <3


End file.
